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Post by iceland on Aug 8, 2012 23:35:18 GMT -6
Breathe.
He woke up in cold sweat. Iceland let out a painful exhale before covering his face as his diaphragm rapidly relaxed and contracted to the rate of his breathing. Where was he? Although the environment was fairly dark, some escaped light from unknown origins eventually made silhouette materialize. As his eyes become accustomed to the darkness, the boy quickly crawled out of the bed where he had presumably been sleeping on. How curious was that he did not remember falling asleep in the room at all. Frankly, he had no idea how or why he had been staying in this room.
In addition, Emil felt rather hollow and empty--as if there was once something there before, but now it was gone. Something was where--? What is 'something'? Confusion was nothing new to him. All he was aware of was the bothersome feeling of being anxious. His intuition screeched at him, telling him to acquire what was once his.
Having no idea what to do, Emil decided to leave the room without excavating the room. Once he was outside of the door, he tightly pressed his lips together at the sudden pang of familiarity. Oh yes, of course--the hallways.
His fingers wrapped around the doorknob and once he turned it, the knob didn't' budge a bit. His body's reaction to the prospect of danger pumped a dose of adrenaline into his blood stream. Last time he was out in the hallway, he was attacked by... by something. Clutching his head, Iceland let out a frustrated grunt. Why couldn't he remember?
Breathe.
He gulped and then looked around, feeling the hairs on his neck stick out. A whisper? A breath? Perhaps it was his own breath that frightened him? Iceland did not know but was sure he wasn't going to be able to get anything accomplished by standing in front of a locked door. Looking left and then looking right, Emil was quite confident that both directions would eventually lead to vile traps. He could feel the shadows of creatures crawling across the battered walls, staring at him from the moss-infested ceiling, tittering from beneath the wooden floorboards.
He let out a breath. At that very moment, his imagination was fueled by fear.
With no other choice or option, he walked. To the right--to the left, it didn't matter. Wherever he was going, Emil tried his best to keep a steady pace and a stern expression, his fingers grazing the hilt of his sword. He was a viking child. Once a baby raised by the way of the sword, axe, javelins, and bow and arrows. He had seen men crumble with the face of bravery. Their weapons raised to invite the valkryies that promised to salvage the bravest into the kingdom of Valhalla.
"Are you troubled?"
Emil nearly lost his footing. He stared at the figure of a young girl in front of her. Instantly, he froze. Black hair, smooth green eyes, and a red painted smile, she made him feel uncomfortably comfortable. She had a sickly suaveness in that smile, it made a chill dance down his spine. His insides curled at the sweet venom in her eyes. At a loss on what to say, he merely stared.
"You've lost something important to you, haven't you?" She smiled curtly. "Your memories?"
The boy furrowed his brows. The woman's uncanny knowledge of his situation confirmed her maleficence. "Who are you?"
"I am one of the three sisters that live in this manor, little one." She chuckled sweetly. "Let's play hide-and-seek. You can hide... but I will seek. And when I seek, I like to pick-a-boo. If you live from this, maybe you'll find what you're looking for."
He readied for a fight, despite his shaking legs. As he clasped the grip of the sword, the girl morphed into what looked like a giant anaconda-snake-python-some species of deadly snake with very prominent teeth meant for tearing apart flesh. That was the most accurate description of the fiend from the side view because he was already running as fast as he could. Right--he was a warrior child. However, not once was he taught on how to deal with ghost demon creatures.
To his defense, though, his running was to also create a bit of distance. He was so dangerously close to it, he only had two options: run at it directly like an idiot or run to live a little longer.
From his peripheral, he saw a tendril or some slimy arm incoming from behind; if he could think properly in that moment, he would've wondered where it came from. In one swift movement, he managed to slice it off. Celebration had only lasted for a little while before he came face-to-face with a dead-end. Iceland turned around, heart beating out of time, ready to fight, and unfortunately ready for Valhalla.
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Post by genesis on Aug 18, 2012 8:07:15 GMT -6
It was drafty in the mansion.
Belarus sniffled as another stray wind passed her by, catching loose tendrils of hair in its wake. Once again, Belarus berated herself on the prudence in selecting this particular outfit. She must have been possessed when she decided to wear said outfit after she had unintentionally dug it out from the recesses of her wardrobe. But it was a gift from Japan, and she figured that it would do good for her sustaining diplomatic relations if she was to arrive at the party in it. Inwardly, she still questioned Japan’s choice of covering, or lack thereof.
She journeyed down the desolated corridor, detecting neither sight nor sound of the other nations anywhere. Suddenly, there was the barest whisper of a breeze that brushed right by her. The young nation was not entirely certainly, but it felt as if someone was trying to send her a message, a warning to run in the direction that the breezes went, to run and run and don’t look back.
So she went forward instead.
Because if someone had been attempting to scare her off, to send her away, there had to be something at the other end that the ‘someone’ of the mansion did not want her to encounter. Something that was waiting for her.
Logic told her that she should be afraid, and sensibility suggested of turning tails and screaming like a little child as she flee to nowhere, but Belarus pursued forward nathless. When your history pages are written with blood from facing down the barrels of German troops, you’d learn to grow a backbone and a crooked perspective of life and death. Fear was nought but something you manipulate to your advantage, donning it around your finger like a ring as your gaze turned others to stone.
Ahh.
There it was again. With each step, Belarus’ confidence grew; her intuition was screeching and hissing like a wild cat. Then, a very queer fact about these subtle drafts slowly dawned on Belarus with increasing clarity.
Their resemblance to breaths was almost striking, if not entirely.
The crack of heels against solid wood reverberated along the derelict walls of the corridor as her pace accelerated. As if there was a magnet at the end of this endless corridor, Belarus felt drawn into the darkness. The currents came as frantic whispers to her ears now, urging her faster, slower, stop, go.
A sharp turn around the corner, and this time it came like a blow to chest. It was no longer a whispery word, but a hiss of pure menace and venom, and it came from a creature that resembled very much like a snake indeed. Its back was facing her, but the rattling tail was all Belarus needed to classify her as the enemy. Belarus' lips twitched at the corners into something of resemblance to a smile. She found her 'something'.
Her heels landed with a resounding, deliberate click, announcing her appearance. As expected, it turned, rearing its (likewise expected) ugly head. With the sudden clearing, Belarus spotted what must have been the creature's intended prey. Silver hair was a stark identification, and Belarus' lips curled in distaste as her eyes caught that of the other nation's. Terrific. The littlest of the Nordics needed saving from the big, bad witch. A sword was drawn out perpendicular from him and it almost made her snort. A dead end, a pointy stick and a bloodthirsty monster several times a person's size would still add up to odds against his favour.
With an apparently unexpected appearance of another nation, the creature's attention was evidently caught and divided, uncertain of which way to lunge. Hesitation. An opening that Belarus recognised, a weakness that she has exploited countless times before. Her fingers slipped down the chain of blades strapped around her waist, wrapping themselves in a familiar hold. Then, her wrist snapped, launching the knife forward. Years of practice and with many, many targets was indeed the formula for perfection as her aim proved true. The knife landed, buried to the hilt, right in the core of the creature's right eye. It shrieked, a sound of clashing metals and hell's gate.
Something in Belarus shifted at that, with the responding call of rattling locks and chains. Belarus smiled at the creature's agony with its full attention and fury now on her. Another blade was already in hand.
"Have you been waiting?"
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[[ Can I just say that I adore your writing? <3 I have another forum as well, but I love how everyone's posts are so long and detailed here! I think you have a very fantastic writing style! (:
And as you can tell, Belarus is currently very impressed with Ice's masculinity. XDDD;; ]]
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Post by iceland on Aug 18, 2012 16:49:41 GMT -6
A... Valkyrie?
She moved with this strange ethereal buoyancy, with force, with power, but with beauty and grace. There was a certain way her billowy long, silken blonde hair moved. Strands of hair would be left behind, flying mid-air before falling back into place. Her face had this expression that seemed so familiar. It was cold with placid concentration. It was as if her eyes were analyzing, calculating every move she was planning to make. She was quick, versatile, using her small frame as an advantage against the large coiled serpent that was relatively helpless at staggering her agility. Her whole presence was demanding of attention. That was obvious in the way Emil stared with slight disbelief. He was frozen in place, stupefied. Not by fear--why he had momentarily forgotten what fear was. Rather, he was quite awed though he would never admit it.
He stood there and watched. In one fluid movement, she released a wave of knives that struck, yet not fatally, the beast. Although it screamed and writhed of a pain gladly not empathized, it appeared to be more provoked than weary of the woman. From the very back, still tightly grasping the handle of his blade, Emil could see the nascent indignation in the blood of its eyes. Its thin tongue menacingly revealed itself to be the previous 'tendril' that had tried to attack him.
She then spoke. He let out a breath. Usually, he wasn't the type to pay close attention to detail.
Frankly, Emil was a little awed and dumbfounded. A moment ago, he was ready to embrace death only to meet the stark blue eyes of a heroine. There was still the residual presence of a smile on her lips that either enchanted or confounded him. He was then quite sure she was not a Valkyrie or a figment of his imagination. If he wasn't in the presence of imminent danger, he would've been so embarrassed his ears would turn pink.
"I-I... suppose." He answered staidly without really thinking about what she really meant. Redeeming a bit of himself, the young nation frowned. There was a subtle smugness as an undertone of her voice. That tone invoked that fire in his chest--the very same flame that ignited the battle cries of the Vikings long ago. This was his fight too--that serpentine creature had something of importance to him. Surely as hell, he wasn't going to let this mysterious stranger take the glory for herself. The gleam of the blade reminded him that he was a warrior.
Consequently, he shunned himself of his previous acceptance of death. There were still too many things that had to be done. If he could remember clearly, Icelanders didn't give up without a fight.
He charged rather recklessly without the meticulousness of his companion, but the ferocity of a beast. Although the creature eyes was intensely on the woman, its new focus was the competitor that dared to fight it head on. A cruel hiss escaped its throat, its eyes widening as it searched for opportunity. It lunged its head forward to what could've been a fatal direct hit. Yet the boy, keen as he was, managed to dodge it. For a split-second of slow motion as splinters of wood were catapulted into the air, Emil's eyes remained fixated on its neck.
Could his blade do it? Could his blade really be sharp enough to slice off the beasts' head? Moreover, could Emil have the strength to fully execute it without fear of it getting stuck or disastrously retaliated? He breathed. Too slow--
The opportunity was gone. Before he knew, its head was up once more. Emil seethed, not in pain but in frustration that he did not even attempt to hit it at all. He could feel the woman's eyes coldly looking at his back, which compelled further aggression towards the belligerent monster. Whatever she was doing, he hoped she was moving while he had his back turned against her. At least it was distracted by his determination.
Its mouth gaped wide open and its teeth sunk down to the floorboards; it was a miss again only by a hair. His face was pale by the sheer shock of the closeness of the impact. Adrenaline pulsated in his veins, his heart beating out of its chest. A fresh dose of fear was injected into the blood vessels in his brain. His grip on the blade slightly faltered. That could've ended him.
A spray of blood coated his blade and was peppered on his pale complexion. Grunting, Emil created some distance between the sibilant hisses of the snake, its pained cries were loud enough to make blood curl. His expression remained saturated in tense concentration.
Breathing heavily, Emil had just done what he thought was called an act of bravery alone. He struck the beast in the neck after looking at its bloodlust eyes. It was not a fatal strike or even too much of a powerful strike, but it was a courageous strike---reckless even. More importantly, it won't be his last.
[ Thank you! I am so very happy you enjoyed it ;A; I'd also like to add that I absolutely loved reading your post. Your style is jaskdj amazing <3
Yess first time ever, someone is impressed with it~~ eue victory is mine. ]
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Post by genesis on Nov 23, 2012 10:06:53 GMT -6
“I-I… suppose.”
There came a brief moment, the briefest flicker of time, which Belarus reacted to those words. Did he actually… reply her? Heaven only knows how she managed to summon the incredulity during such an urgent situation, but that, she did.
An idiot, Belarus decided with finality. She was here with an idiot.
There was no love lost, no love to begin with in regards to the Scandinavian nation, so it was not much of a feat to dismiss him completely in favour of the beast. He was not her concern, and she has no responsibility for his life. Her sole desire was the death of her prey.
A low hiss slipped past its lips, and Belarus could hear the fury of a mere animal provoked. Her advantage laid in her previous action; with knives embedded to the hilt in both of its eyes, the beast’s vision was ultimately inutile. Now, how to kill something you can’t see? The answer: You don’t. You strike randomly, and hope it hits.
And that was exactly what it did.
It lunged, crashing into the floorboards at a futile attempt at her life. Skipping away deftly from the clumsy creature, Belarus caught sight of a flash of white. Mm. At least the Icelandic was apt at running away.
Another knife in hand, Belarus crouched low, analyzing the slithery body for another weak point. She had no clue how thick the scales were. No points wasting blades if they do little to no damage.
Just as she was about to make an initial assessment, yet another glimmer caught her eyes. But this one was all too familiar; the reflection of sunlight on the silver of a blade. Belarus’ eyes snapped up, up to the sword wielded in the hands of the Nordic. He was positioned at the nape of the creature’s neck; a vital point, entirely exposed and vulnerable. All he has to do is---
A breath.
It came, soft and almost unheard, from him, and to Belarus, it was practically a sign of surrender. He wouldn’t make it.
And he didn’t.
Chains rattled and the lock shook as something deep, deep within her shrieked. The world narrowed down to a thin silt and was dyed the hue of blood. There was screaming, but impossible to differentiate what was from foreign and what came from within. Her fingers shot out and snagged the collar of her secondary prey. One tug sent him tumbling behind her and a strong plunge of her knife into the flesh of the creature revealed Belarus to truly be the little sister of Russia; strength and precision is apparently inherited.
It was not a lethal strike, but it spilled enough blood, it bought enough time for her to pull the boy a good distance away from the monster, and to turn to him in bloodlust.
There was too much to say, and at the same time, nothing at all. But surely, she had to get her point across, that much was a necessity.
“Leave,” She commanded. “If you cannot fight to kill, if you are too weak to be anything but a burden, run now.”
Belarus recognised stubbornness, she recognised pride. She would know all that she saw in the Icelandic; after all, she possessed them all.
“If you wish to stay, and if you hesitate just once more, I swear on the screams of your people,” Her fingers were like ice, curling around the other nation’s neck in a familiar hold. It would be so easy to just snap his neck, to rid herself of this nuisance. It was that easy.
“I’ll personally send you to Hel and Niflheim.” She pulled back, releasing her hold.
The beast, the beast. It had risen to its full height now, venom and wrath spilling past its lips with each bated breath.
Behind her, Belarus heard the other beast in name stagger upwards. There was no time to entertain her other guest, not till this prey was hers. Closing her ears to the screams of her own beast and slanting a glance at Iceland, she motioned for him to steady his sword.
“I don’t make idle threats, little boy.” Her eyes once again trained on the sight before her. Beaten, but far from dead. What a persistent pest.
Its death will soon be celebrated.
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[[FINALLY MANAGED TO DO A REPLY. I'M SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY. BUT HEY SEE HOW MUCH BELA LOVES YOU. YOU CAN DIE IN HER ARMS. <3
And yhey, first appearance of inner Belarus. eue ]]
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